Chapter 21
Zoe
“I have to go to Vancouver again,” Bennett says on Monday when he gets home from work. He starts heating up some food in the microwave.
“Do you usually travel this often?” I ask.
“I rarely go there twice in a month, but it’s not that out of the ordinary.”
I don’t ask why he needs to go to Vancouver, but there are a number of T&R Marts out west, so I’m not surprised it’s a common destination for him.
I wonder if he ever travels for reasons that aren’t work. I’m not sure what I should feel free to ask him and what I shouldn’t.
“When are you leaving?” I ask.
“Thursday. Returning on Sunday.”
“I’m seeing my friends on Saturday night.”
“What are you doing?”
“Movie night. That’s our thing,” I say. “We met on an app a number of years ago—an app for making friends.” Dawn was a later addition, though. She knew Claire first. “Once or twice a month, we get together and watch two movies that fit a theme. Last time, we watched Aliens and E.T.”
“Ah. That explains why you were dressed as an alien in the eighties.”
“This time…well, we haven’t figured it out yet. It’s my turn to host, but…”
“You can do it here,” he says.
“Yeah? You trust me?”
He nods, then takes his food out of the microwave and sits down at the table.
I give him a quick hug. “Thank you!”
Strange to think that I only have two more weeks of living with him, and he’ll be away for part of that time.
Thursday evening, Bennett’s gone, so I retreat to the bed in the guest room, where I have all my clothes and other stuff.
However, when I’m still wide awake after midnight, I wonder if it’s because I’m used to sleeping with him.
After a moment’s hesitation, I head to his bedroom and lie down on my side of the bed.
It’s not quite the same without him next to me, but his scent is still on the sheets, and maybe that’s what calms me, I don’t know.
I shouldn’t miss him. He’s just some guy I’m living with…and sleeping with. You can have roommates you barely know, and sex doesn’t have to mean anything.
I’m used to him being around, that’s all. No reason to worry that it’s something more.
Karina, Fiona, Claire, Dawn and I stand in the kitchen, chatting before we start Paddington 2.
The problem with having movie night at Bennett’s? Everyone wants to talk about him.
“It’s too bad he’s not here,” Karina says as her gaze roams the kitchen. “I want to meet him.” She gives me a grin that looks slightly evil.
Okay, maybe more than a little evil. I’m afraid of what she’d say to Bennett.
“You know you wouldn’t be here if he was in Toronto,” I say.
“Why not?” Fiona asks.
“Because you’d be disrupting his peace and privacy. He’s doing me a favor.”
“Getting you off every night. Right. I understand.”
I give her a look.
“He’s not getting you off every time? Maybe he needs lessons.”
When it comes to talking about sex, Fiona is more comfortable with it than the rest of us. But romance? Well, I guess she’s also comfortable talking about that—or, rather, her dislike of it.
In real life, that is. She loves fictional romances.
Her twin sister, on the other hand, loves being in love, which Fiona doesn’t understand, given that they both witnessed it go terribly wrong for their parents.
“He doesn’t need lessons,” I stammer. “Like I said, he’s very enthusiastic.”
“You can be enthusiastic and clueless.”
Even though she’s teasing, I feel the need to defend him. “He knows what he’s doing.”
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Karina asks as she helps herself to one of the cupcakes that Claire brought.
“Of course. I…What exactly are you asking?”
“I think you’re in love with him.”
“What?” I say. “No. How could I be in love with Bennett? He’s Clifton’s brother, and I’ve sworn off romance until at least the end of the year.”
“You see how defensive she is?” Karina turns to Claire.
“Yeah,” Claire says. “I think you might be right.”
“Being defensive doesn’t mean I’m in love with him,” I protest. “And even even if I were—”
“Which I maintain is a terrible idea,” Fiona says. “In general, but particularly in this situation.”
“—it doesn’t matter. He clearly doesn’t feel that way.”
“Are you sure?” Claire asks.
“Yeah.” I sound gloomier than I should. It’s not like I want him to have feelings for me. In fact, it would be rather inconvenient if he wanted this to be real. “Let’s start Paddington 2.”
My friends allow me to change the topic, for which I’m thankful.
“You know,” Dawn says, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen something from Hugh Grant’s rom-com era.”
“What about Love, Actually?” I ask.
“Never seen it.” Dawn rarely watched TV and movies as a kid, and she still hasn’t seen a lot of popular movies.
“Everyone has opinions on Love, Actually,” Fiona says. “We’ll watch it at some point.”
“Movies with ‘love’ in the title?” Claire suggests.
“I also want to do a return-from-outer-space night,” Fiona says. “The Martian and Apollo 13. But we should get started.”
We watch Paddington 2, then get Thai food delivered. I ensure that everyone eats it in the kitchen and no mess is left afterward. This isn’t my place, after all.
After dinner, we move on to Heretic and I open a bottle of wine.
Hm. Perhaps a horror movie wasn’t a great choice when I’ll be spending the night alone in a big house.
We’ve got about twenty minutes left when there’s a noise at the door. It sounds like a key in the lock.
I pause the movie. “Did you hear that?”
“Yeah,” Claire whispers. “Someone’s here.”
“I thought Bennett wasn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow?” Fiona says.
I nod, my pulse beating furiously.
“I hope it’s him,” she says, “I really want to meet him.”
I hope it’s him, too. Who else would have a key, other than the cleaning lady and the person who looks after Mittens while he’s gone?
Someone steps into the house and shuts the door. I jump up and hurry to the front hall before I realize what I’m doing.
It’s Bennett.
I exhale in relief. “Why are you home?”
“I texted you when I left Pearson.” He takes off his jacket. “You didn’t get the message?”
“My phone’s on silent and I haven’t looked at it. Is something wrong?”
“No, just decided to change my flight.”
Mittens comes down the stairs and rubs against his leg. When he picks her up and scratches her chin, I try not to be envious. The top button of his shirt is undone, and I want to kiss the hollow of his throat. And many other places.
I swallow. “We’re almost done with the movie. The second movie, I mean.”
Fiona waltzes over. “Hello. You must be Bennett. I’m Fiona.”
All of my friends are in the front hall now, and they’re giving each other knowing looks. I swear Claire practically melts when Bennett gives Mittens another scratch. Yeah, he’s a very sweet cat dad.
“Thank you for allowing us to take over your house,” Fiona says.
Dammit. I wish they were all gone. Much as I love my friends, it’s nice to see Bennett again, and my body is used to having sex every day.
Not that I expect him to be in the mood after his travels, but I do feel bad that he’s come home to a house full of women when he probably wants some peace and quiet.
“You can finish the movie, of course,” he says. “I’ll be upstairs. It was nice to meet you all.” He gives us a curt nod and carries Mittens up the stairs.
My friends return to the living room, giggling. Aside from Karina—she doesn’t giggle, but she’s smirking.
“He came home early to see you,” Claire whispers as I settle back on the couch.
I pull my phone out of my pocket. Sure enough, I do have a text from Bennett, but it doesn’t say that he wants to see me.
“You’re right,” Fiona says, “he’s very hot.”
“I never…” I lower my voice, remembering that he’s in the house. “I never said he was very—oh, wait. You’re right. I did.”
“And you didn’t lie.”
I feel a prickle of annoyance that she’s calling my fake boyfriend “very hot,” but I’m also pleased that she’s impressed. I don’t appreciate the conflicting feelings.
“Let’s watch the rest of the movie,” I say.
Twenty minutes later, my friends head out the door. I think they all have the wrong idea about what’s going on, but trying to correct them (again) won’t help the matter.
After making sure everything’s tidy, I head upstairs.
Bennett is unpacking his suitcase—because of course he’s the sort of man who unpacks right away.
He’s taken off his dress shirt, and he’s wearing a white T-shirt and dress pants.
It’s totally unfair that he looks this good after flying across the country.
“How was your movie night?” he asks.
“Good.” I don’t usually give one-word answers to such questions, but I don’t want to tell him about our conversations. Actually, I don’t want to think about my friends at all right now. “How was your trip? Why did you change your flight?”
He doesn’t say anything, but his gaze bores into mine.
He prowls toward me—I swear, prowl is the right word—and backs me up against the bedroom door, the length of his body pressing against mine.
I wrap my arms around him, loving how solid he feels.
When his mouth drops to my neck, I gasp, more sensitive after a few days apart.
God, I wish I could kiss him. It seems like the right thing to do when your boyf—I mean, your lover—returns from a trip.
“I didn’t want to spend another night,” he says, “without you in my bed.”
Heat flares in my body. “I slept in your bed while you were gone.”
“Is that so?” He nips my collarbone, and I gasp again.
My back is against the door, but otherwise, I’m surrounded by Bennett. Being so close to him is intoxicating, and I can’t think straight.
He unbuttons my jeans and slips a hand into my panties. “You missed this, didn’t you?”
I nod. I can admit that much.
“Did you get yourself off while I was gone?”
“Once. Yes.”
He hums and slides his fingers in and out. I twist against him and moan.
“Did you think of me when you came?” he asks.
“Of course.” As I stand here with his hand down my pants, the idea that I could think of anyone else seems preposterous.
His answering smile? It’s filthy and beautiful, and it promises me a very good night.
When his thumb circles my clit, I clench around him. I’m desperate to get off, but I’m also desperate to touch him. I unzip his pants, but he lays a firm hand on mine before I can reach inside.
“I should shower first,” he says, stepping back.
I moan at the loss of his touch and move toward him before I can stop myself, but he holds up a hand.
I’m not sure I’ve ever felt such acute disappointment.
“Just a quick shower,” he assures me.
“Then why did you touch me?”
“For fun,” he says in a serious tone. Then he taps my chin with his wet finger and disappears into the washroom.
I can barely stand it. My body is buzzing with desire, and a short shower sounds impossibly long. What should I do while I wait for him?
Then it comes to me. I hope he likes his surprise.